On Friday evening, when Jon walked in from work, he adorned a huge smile on his face and told me that he had it all figured out. "You have what figured out?" I demanded, eyeing him quizzically. As he enjoyed keeping me in suspense and took ample time divulging his news, I couldn't help pondering what he was referring to. Did he receive a promotion at work? Did he unravel string theory and discover life on another planet? Did he finally figure out how to fold the city mini baby stroller and move it into the garage? Settling into the couch beside me, he calmly, yet seriously explained to me that he had contrived his very own birthing plan.
Still skeptical, I responded: "Oh that thing I had you print out from Baby Center? I already filled that out two weeks ago and it is in our hospital suitcase." Of course, this was not what he was referring to...
Jon, my meticulous, organized, logical husband, devised a strategic timeline of events in which he planned for us to deliver our baby. According to my dear husband, the imperatively mapped blueprint went as follows: "You will begin having contractions on Thursday, March 31st and I will take you to the hospital after work, after I meet my monthly quota; On Friday, the baby will be delivered and I will have the entire weekend to spend with you in the hospital; On Monday, I will take my week of paternity and will return back to work promptly on Monday, April 11th."
Questions, sardonic responses, and confusion simultaneously befuddled my pregnant brain. I wondered: If I went into labor on Wednesday, did that mean that I would have to drive myself to the hospital, give birth, and have Baby J while Jon resumed work on Thursday to finish his quota? What would happen if I actually had the baby on my due date (April 15th) and Jon had to miss the middle-end of April and he couldn't make his goal? Would our new baby have a resentful daddy? Of course, I immediately realized that my fears were null and void and Jon would be there whenever, wherever Baby J decided to emerge. Yet, at the same time, I had to laugh at the irony of it all: With everything that we have been through these past two months, didn't we already accept the fact that the rest of our lives would no longer be based on a delineated sequence of events?
As previously stated, I have learned throughout this entire process is that it is oftentimes futile to plan and control our lives. Also, the emergence of a new being further complicates the plot. While I told Jon that I was OK with his contrivance, I indicated that there was now a third party in the picture and I didn't know if all was copacetic on his end. Baby J has already demonstrated a fair amount of indecisiveness in his unborn life as he initially thought that he wanted to debut two months ago, then decided to remain in mommy's incubator. Also, my contractions began at 30 weeks and then abruptly ended at 36 weeks. Now, at just over 37 weeks, Baby J is fully cooked and this is usually the time when contractions become more intense. My body is showing zero signs of going into labor and I am starting to think that my unborn child may have to be forced out of his protective womb.
This morning, when I had my ultrasound, I once again explained to the technician that Baby J is not a morning person and enjoys keeping me awake at night with his dare-devilish acrobatics. When she responded that I better find a way to change that pattern quickly, I could do nothing but laugh. Again, another person under the wrongful assumption that I can just press a button on my remote control and TIVO Baby J to play at a more suitable time. While I have purchased a pile of baby books on healthy sleep patterns and so on, I have already learned that I will be unable to operate my baby like a machine.
For now, my only birthing plan is to eventually coerce this little rugrat out of my body and into the world. I continue to live my life on a day by day basis, and wonder each evening if tonight will be the night...Although Baby J is still in the 12th percentile in terms of weight, he is now approximately 5 lbs, 11ozs and continues to pass his biophysical profiles with flying colors. Jon and I completed his nursery this weekend and the monkeys are all hanging around, waiting expectantly for their honored king of the jungle.